


Pain

by InsaneHam



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-18 21:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16524911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneHam/pseuds/InsaneHam
Summary: Alexander trudged miserably through the rain. He cursed the weather. It was as if the sky was laughing at him, mocking his audacity and blocking his path. The darkness made it impossible to see five feet forward, so he had no idea where he was going. Lady luck truly did hate him. He barked a bitter laugh.





	Pain

Alexander trudged miserably through the rain. He cursed the weather. It was as if the sky was laughing at him, mocking his audacity and blocking his path. The darkness made it impossible to see five feet forward, so he had no idea where he was going. Lady luck truly did hate him. He barked a bitter laugh.

Sloshing through another puddle, he glanced down at his feet. His previously white sneakers, the only nice thing he owned, was now a dirty brown, dripping with water. Ruined. Alexander knew he should’ve left it, but he didn’t have much of a choice, and Maria surely preferred this to Alexander freezing his feet off. Still, it left a bad taste in his mouth.  


Shivering slightly, clothes soaked through, he shrugged his jacket higher up. It wasn’t much, all torn and muddy, but it kept the biting cold out. He dug his hands deeper in his pockets. Alexander had lost sensation in his fingers long ago, but he kept the hope that they could be saved. It was something to look forward to, through this tribunal of rain and wind. 

His brown hair whipped around him, obscuring his vision further. Alexander didn’t bother to brush it away. It was an annoyance, but nothing compared to the wounds on his back. They throbbed with every step, pervading his very being. He winced as he almost slipped on a particularly moist piece of dirt, shock shooting up his spine. Pain wasn’t something you ever got used to. Hunger was. His body had long since given up, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Alexander was used to it, ignored the needs of his mind and continued forward. Nothing would stop him.

But now even his experience was failing him. Fog filled his mind, slowing his thoughts. Food. He needed food. There was nothing to give. Alexander could feel his limbs slowing, weak from a lack of energy. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be brought down by this. If even King couldn’t bring him to his knees, then nothing would. In spite of this, Alexander could feel his eyelids begin to droop. He forced himself to keep moving.

Amidst his internal struggle, his foot caught on a tree root and he fell face first into the mud. Mind didn’t process it until he breathed in, only to be met with a mouthful of mud. He rolled over, choking and hacking, expending his last reserves of energy clearing his lungs. Then he laid there, feeling the life draining out of him. Cold droplets slid down his face. Shallow breaths. For a moment he considered standing up again, fighting against destiny, as he had always done. But he was so tired. Maybe he could just lay down for a few minutes.

The cries of his comrades shrieked over the howling wind, pleading with him to get up, keep struggling on, have his name be remembered so they wouldn’t be forgotten. He had heard those voices before, all citing different excuses why he had to live to fight another day. That was how he had gotten through the his life, listening to them, taking comfort in the knowledge he was not alone. But now he was just so tired and hungry and cold. He just wanted all of the suffering to end.

His mother’s voice asserted itself amongst the rest, soothing him, reassuring him that he had tried as hard as he could. Now he could just let go and join them. Escape this harsh reality and go to a place where pain was nonexistent and he could relax; an eternal rest. He let his muscles go slack. It was easier than fighting. Death was creeping up on him, icy breath creeping through his body. Happily waiting for the moment to take the soul of the orphan who had lived long past his time.

Maybe it was better this way. King only saw him as a weapon to be used at his discretion. Lee and Seabury tortured him, taking pleasure in his pain. Everyone he cared about was gone. Except Aaron. But who knew where he might be? Had King ever found him? Was he dead too, just one more soul waiting for him in the afterlife? Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at the stormy sky. His brother was there, standing next to their mother who was patiently waiting for him, soft smile on her lips. He stretched out a hand, trying to get closer to his loved ones.

“I’m coming mama.”

He heard footsteps approaching, the sounds of voices. His body tensed, prepared for a fight, but he couldn’t even muster the energy to lift his head. The voices grew closer. Hopefully they would give him a quick end. His mother shimmered and faded, and Alexander pleaded with her to stay, to not leave him again. Heedless of his cries, she took his brother’s hand and flew away, disappearing into the night. Alexander felt a deep pain in his heart. They had abandoned him, just like Aaron. Droplets slid down his cheeks. 

There was a cry of alarm. Within seconds, there was someone by his side shaking him, panicked babbling. It was familiar in an odd way, but Alexander’s food deprived brain couldn’t process the words. The stranger cried louder. Heavier footsteps, and another person scooped Alexander into his arms. A booming voice started issuing orders. The warmth was welcoming, but he struggled against the man, wanting to be left alone. Maybe, when they left, his family would come back. The effort was futile. He could barely keep his eyes open, and the man holding him clearly had no intention to let him die. Pressed against his chest, the rapid heartbeat was familiar, protective. It was as if he was a child again and his father was still here. Rocking him and quieting his cries. 

“Papa,” Alexander whispered, inaudible to his own ears. “You came back.” 

Feeling safe for the first time in years, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.


End file.
